The Tech Nerd and Recon Jock
by Semine Midnight
Summary: HollyFoaly vignettes I cooked up, since there is so little of this pairing. Read and review, but most of all, enjoy!
1. Latenight Banter in the Ops Booth

Got bored, liked Artemis Fowl, picked my two favorite characters, and below are the results. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: The plot is mine. Sadly, nothing else is.

* * *

** Foaly tapped at the keyboard, almost absent-mindedly. At the moment, his brain was more concerned with stringing together rather eloquent cuss-intensive sentences.

Two words could sum it up: Mulch Diggums. Damn the little dwarf. Damn the little medallion the little dwarf had. And above all, damn the Mud Man ability to link memories to material items!

Root was foaming at the mouth over it.

The official story was that the thief had tunneled under Fowl Manor to wind up a scant two inches away from the now-filled tunnel in the wine cellar that he had used two years ago. Then, the general breaking and entering gist, as well as finding the boy and showing him the medallion (security hadn't been what it once was, what with all of the fairy technology that was hidden for defense reasons around the manor having been pinched and secured by the LEP. It was pathetic; couldn't Mud Men do _anything_ themselves?). After that, the memory of fairies spread like a wildfire throughout Fowl Manor. Or, at least, it had spread over the occupants who actually _had_ remembered the fairies at one point.

Foaly's department's shoestring budget was being stretched to its thinnest, and the centaur was tired, irritated, hungry, and bored.

Holly had gone up to see what she could see. Her pod should be coming down in a matter of moments.

Foaly glanced at some of the clocks in the Ops booth. It was two in the morning on the surface of the Earth, and about two-thirty underneath it. The Ops booth was the only one with lights still on.

"Come on, Short, if you're that hot at piloting, get down here already," Foaly muttered into the mic.

"Hey, Foaly?" Holly voice responded.

"Yes?"

"Shut it. I'll be there in a sec, hold your horns on."

Foaly smirked. Holly could still bring a smile to his face, be it two-thirty.

"Do you know how many cups of coffee I've gone through?" he asked.

"Do I care?"

"Four, Holly. Four! And do you know how hard it is to get coffee down here?"

"Again, Foaly. Do I care?"

"Apparently not."

Foaly pouted.

"Stop pouting; like I said, I'll be there in a sec."

"I expect that you recompense me a cup of some drinkable liquid for putting up with you at this time," Foaly said, hoping she'd get the meaning behind his words.

"Would sulfuric acid work?" She didn't.

"Nice, Captain Short, very nice. Aren't you in a wonderful mood."

"Well, thanks to Mulch Diggums, I should hope I'm an improvement over Commander Root."

'You have no idea,' Foaly thought, rolling his eyes.

Though he wouldn't admit it to anyone, not even a deity, if they didn't already know, he had felt the sting of Cupid's arrow. Or, perhaps, he hadn't felt the sting and was dealing with one of those wounds that didn't hurt until you registered that it did, in fact, hurt.

He had realized it rather early in Holly's career, when she and Foaly had just started getting along. She had sent him a short e-card from some Mud Man website for something called a "Happy Bunny".

He had laughed then, as it was snarky and rude and something he cataloged it to memory for future use. Once he had taken a second look at it, he felt like he had been whacked in the back of the head with a wine bottle. Except it didn't hurt and he hadn't been knocked out.

That was when he realized that she had sent it with the full intension of making him smile.

He liked that feeling. After that, he began noticing subtle things about her, like how she walked or flied or talked to him. And, just before the B'wa Kell incident, he had been more than a little bit jealous of Chix, who was able to work with Holly for extended periods of time, getting to show off for the pretty officer, even getting cared for by her. Foaly made sure that Chix's computer crashed at least once a week during that period of time.

And secretly, when he was alone in the Ops booth and very, very bored, he would entertain himself by imagining himself…well, it wasn't really important _what_, exactly, he imagined himself doing to Holly (different species, he kept telling himself, even though it didn't work. Different species). It was extremely embarrassing when either Root or an officer or even Holly herself came in when he was having one of those moments. It was a good thing that the Ops booth was always slightly warm, and one could blame the flushing of one's skin on that.

He knew it was more, much more than simply friendship or lust. He didn't know quite _what _it was.

But, as aforementioned, he wouldn't tell anyone.

Never.

Ever.

Ever, ever, ever.

No.

The End.

"S'wrong, Foaly? Out of sarcasm? Asleep in front of the controls?" Holly's taunting voice buzzed over the com unit.

"With four cups of coffee in me? And you on the other end? Not likely, sweetie," Foaly said, putting just slightly under his usual amount of annoying into the last word.

"I'm coming in. Look out."

A beat-up, nearly retired pod crashed into the landing tube outside the Ops booth. Captain Short came out, pulled off her helmet, checked to see that her ears hadn't crumbled, and waved with a smug grin at the Ops booth.

"You're full of it," Foaly said as he came out.

"Then we're two of a kind. Hey, Foaly…"

"Yes?" the centaur asked, turning to look at Holly. She looked tired, but happy.

"You wanna…find an all night restaurant? We'll get something to eat," she said, as she hung her helmet on a nearby rack. If sweeter words had ever been spoken, Foaly hadn't heard them.

"Why under Earth would I want to do that?" he asked, teasing her a bit. "I've already got too much caffeine in my system. Why should I go for a snack with you?"

"Because, Foaly," Holly said, lowering her eyelids to a half-closed position and leaning up towards him in a seductive manner. (Foaly would've pinched himself, but if this was a dream, he didn't want to wake up. At this point, all thoughts of Mulch Diggums and Artemis Fowl the Second were gone.) She reached up and placed one arm around his shoulders, the other near his head.

In one fluid movement, she plucked his tin foil hat off. Holly pulled herself back and started running towards the door as Foaly's brain worked feverishly to register what just happened.

"Because, Foaly," she said, over her shoulder. "I've got your hat, and I won't give it back unless you let me take you for food!"

Four feet are faster than two, and soon Foaly had caught up to her. He backed her into a corner.

"The hat, Miss Short," he said, trying not to smile.

"And what if I don't give it to you?" she asked mischievously, also trying not to smile.

"I'll tell all of the other officers you were flirting with the tech nerd," he said, leaning his head down so that his mouth was just beside her ear.

He heard her sigh, and felt his hat return to his head.

"Now," he said, adjusting his hat slightly, "what was that about an all night restaurant?"

"You realize, of course," Holly said, as they walked out of the LEPrecon police department, "that I could just as easily say that the tech nerd went out on a date with an officer?"

"Yes. But this isn't a date, this is…the compensation for difficult goods purchasing."

"What, do I have to kiss you to make it a date?" she asked, jokingly.

'Please do,' her companion thought.

Later, as he walked to his smallish apartment, his lips still tingling slightly, he decided that Holly could read minds.

* * *

Mushy, ain't it? Please review, but flame and I'll toast you in another fic. ((BEWARE!)) 

More HollyFoaly stuff later...


	2. Groceries

First of all, allow me to explain why this next short story might be weird:

1. It's late.

2. I have no caffeine.

3. I'm doing this out of the kindess of my heart (those who know me well will agree that it is a rather limited field.)

4. I couldn't think of anything better.

It's not really a romance, and the characters are a bit out of, well, character. You no likie, you no readie. Simple. Got it?

EXTREME POINTLESSNESS AHEAD!

* * *

Holly snatched up a large bottle of purified-fresh water, shook it, peered into its depths, and dropped it into her shopping basket, deeming it worthy of purchasing. 

Joining it were assorted vegetables and a magazine, as well as minsdoc, a style of rice that grew quite nicely under the Earth. There was also a small loaf of full-grurn bread, which was yet another grain that only grew in the cultivated spots just outside Haven.

Holly was shopping for the first time in a week. She bought in bulk when ever possible, so that she didn't have to go the stores for life's trivial necessities, like food.Produce went quickly in her household, hence this trip.

She didn't mind shopping, but she didn't like slow-moving crowds. And if Haven City's supermarkets had one thing, it was slow-moving crowds.

She waded up and down the aisles. If she saw something that caught her eye, she would snap her attention to it as she passed, because she didn't think it necessary to spend more time than absolutely required in the supermarket.

Holly passed the beets and smiled grimly, noticing that they were, in fact, the exact color of Commander Root's face on a bad day. She was able to have memorized the color by now.

She passed the bakery section and took a cookie from the free samples table constructed beside it. A weary-looking sprite glimpsed up at her, and Holly shot the worker a small smile. She deliberately took one of the cartons of cookies from the rack, carefully putting it into her basket and walking away, not looking back. It was a pretty good cookie, anyway.

Holly came up to one of the cashiers. The line was long, but she wouldn't fit in the express line. She stood, waiting.

She recognized her cashier right away.

"Hey, Cedric," she said, tossing a bundle of asparagus onto the conveyor belt.

"Afternoon, Miss Short," Cedric responded, not missing a beat. He looked up at the LEP captain as he scanned the minsdoc. "I mean, you are off duty, right?"

"Yes…"

"So that makes you Miss Short, correct?" Holly smiled and rolled her eyes. The kid knew his airs.

"Yeah, yeah. How's school, kid?"

"Fine, thanks. Work?"

Holly gave him a look. "Take a wild guess."

"Wouldn't know."

Holly always spoke to her cashiers this way. They seemed to like it, and so did she. She had always noticed that no one really ever paid much attention to these fairies, so whenever she could and/or wouldn't bite their head off in the process, she struck up a conversation. She made a point to try to remember their names. Holly believed in personalized moral boosts.

"Nice shirt," Holly commented as she forked over the cash for she groceries.

"Thanks," Cedric said.

Holly hauled up her purchases and walked out, waving a bit to the other cashiers as well as Cedric.

On her way home, Holly's eyes kept darting from the foliage to people outside to vehicles to the foliage again, her senses tingling with alertness. Or, some alertness. If Holly had been using all of her alertness, she probably wouldn't have walked into someone.

"Oof!" she said, and dropped one of her bags. Sighing, she got down to pick her things up, offering a half-hearted "Sorry to whoever it was."

"Hey, no big deal. Just try looking where you're going next time. I heard that it works wonders. Here," Foaly's voice said, and Holly's head snapped up. She smiled and took her magazine.

"Hi. Why…are you not surrounded by technology?" Holly asked, putting her "Vegetarian Times" magazine back in her bag.

"Sadly, I have discovered through trial-and-error that buying food online can be a very bad thing. And this supermarket up here is the only one with decent produce."

"Oh. Thanks. See you on Monday?" Holly asked.

"Only if I don't have a nervous break down due to technological withdrawal," Foaly replied with a smirk.

"See that you don't. Root may die of happiness if you do. Then who'll sign my paycheck?"

"You make a good point. See you."

The two went there separate ways, Holly to her apartment, Foaly to the crowded supermarket.

'You learn something new every day,' he mused. 'Who knew Holly was a vegetarian?'

* * *

Review if it sucks, review if it rocks, review, review, or I'll steal your...socks. I must be tired. 

You know what, see reason number one again. Late at night, people!

Meh. I'm going back to bed...

(The following does not apply to people who are about to tell me how fabulously wonderful I am (yes, I am very aware that that was a redundant statment, **thankyouverymuch** Ms. Donovan and Mr. Cowan!))

P.S. If this is devoid of my usual sweetness and light and you need the overpowering urge to flame me for that reason, I say that you are petty and rude. Love ya, mean it! -Semine, exhausted.


	3. HELP! HELP! SOS!

**HELLO! **

**Didn't think I'd be back, didja? Well, here I am, and have I got news!**

My beta, Kali Donovan, and I have a joint account. And as our first act in said account, we are going to torment each other in a competion! That's right!

This is the idea: we make OCs in the universes, and becuse she and I both tend to rwrite romances, we will...dun dun dun! Set each other up with an OC in that universe or a real chacter!

Sound stupid? We thought so! But it will keep us amused. Here are the rules:

1. An author can only use a specific universe once.

2. The OC character must obviously be either Semine or Kali, but the actual names "Semine" and "Kali" cannot be used.

3. Reviews are points. One review therefore equals one point, so review all of Semine's stories many times!

4. Nothing _too_ explicit. Mushy stuff should end with the uber kiss.

5. Teasing allowed, but nothing too cruel.

6. NO GRAVE-DIGGING OR CRADLE-ROBBING!

So there.

There will be ten stories for each of us, twenty all together. We need a prize, so send in ideas!

My peeps, my friends, I implore you; look up msdonovanandmsmidnight (that's our account name) and please, please review my (Semine's) stories! I need at least one victory over Kali!

The first will be mine. It's an Artemis Fowl Chali Donofield, because Kali really liked Chay Whitfield. YAY! Review many times, please!

I lurve you guys! Thanks for helping!

Your loyal writing servant, Semine!


	4. Libby's Aunt

**Yo! First Holly/Foaly fic in a while! Huzzah!**

**Okay, I own the following story, but only Libby White (Libby is Holly's niece...she's a few centuires younger...and in accounting) is mine. Too bad. I'd give them a good home. **

**The song is "Stacy's Mom" by Fountains of Wayne...I changed the lyrics to suit my needs. **

**So let's just cut the crap and get right to it, shall we?**

**Enjoy!

* * *

**

Foaly waited outside the council room, his front left hoof pawing the ground as he waited for his friend Libby White to come out. He needed to talk to the accountant on a matter she had brought up quite a long time ago. Foaly was rather nervous.

And hungry.

**Libby's aunt has got it goin' on  
Libby's aunt has got it goin' on**

Most of Libby came out, but her head was still in the room.

"Uh huh," she was saying, "right…I completely agree…okay, enjoy your weekend... yes…okay…buh-bye." Libby pulled her head out a snapped the door shut. "Leeches! They're all leeches!" the elf suddenly exclaimed, and collapsed against the door, her eyes closed.

"Oh," she said, opening her eyes again, "hello, Foaly. What can I do for you?"

"How was the presentation?" Foaly asked, buying himself some time.

"It went as smoothly as a jagged diamond mountain ridge covered in needles, nails, screws, Brillo pads, thumbtacks, and the scrapings from the bottom of casserole dishes. But the important thing is that it is over for another three months. And I think I may have persuaded them to extend the budget slightly in the Records, Arsenal, and Technology department."

"Ooo…sweet."

"Key words: I think. But if you get it, don't spend it all in one place."

"Yes, mom. I need to talk to about something rather…eh… 'sensitive.'" Libby grew suspicious.

"Yeah, okay. Meet me on the steps in four minutes; I know a place where we can get something to drink."

"Right," Foaly said, "meet you then."

**Libby's aunt has got it goin' on  
Libby's aunt has got it goin' on**

Foaly met Libby ten minutes after they had arranged.

"Sorry," the centaur apologized, "his majesty the commander held me back for a little bit."

"Jeez, did he make you clap erasers too?" Libby asked, raising an eyebrow and leading her friend toward a café.

"He looked like he wanted to."

**Libby, I'll talk to you when I'm done with Sool.  
Oh, and by the way, your presentation was cool.**

"How's Holly?" Foaly asked casually. Libby perked up at her aunt's name.

"Oh, she's okay…kinda bummed not to be working in the LEP anymore, but she and Mulch have their hands full already."

"Right…right. Is this the place?"

"Uh-huh. It's cute, isn't it?"

"It looks…like a dilapidated land pimple."

"You're always so critical. Come on in, Captain Paranoia."

**Did your aunt get back from her business trip?  
Is she there, or is she trying to give me the slip? **

After their orders were placed, Libby looked at Foaly expectantly.

"Soooo…" she said, "are you going to tell me or what?"

"Umm…do you remember that offer you made me…-50?- years ago?"

"No. What was it about?"

"Um…about…mumblemumblemumbleHolly."

"What?"

**You know, I'm not the little boy that I used to be  
I'm all grown up now, baby can't you see**

"Excuse me," the teenage waiter said briskly. "Your iced tea," he said, placing the tall beverage in front of Libby, "and your carrot juice," he added, placing down Foaly's drink.

"What did you say?" Libby asked around her straw.

"That you… would or would not set me up with a person I may or may not be interested in, who is possibly or possibly not related to you in any way shape or form."

**  
Libby's aunt has got it goin' on  
She's all I want and I've waited for so long  
Libby, can't you see you're just not the girl for me  
I know it might be wrong but I'm in love with Libby's aunt**

"Man, you're outta whack today. You're not sarcastic, snippy, annoying, or even (d), all of the above? Okay, okay," Libby amended, seeing her friend's irritated face. "'Would or would not' means definitely would, 'may or may not be interested in' means definitely interested **_a lot_**, and 'who is possibly or possibly not related to me in any way shape or form' means related to me. Sooo…."

Suddenly Libby's eyes grew wide, and Foaly felt himself turn red.

"You don't," she whispered, grinning. Foaly nodded slightly, and Libby gasped. "Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap! This is really funny! I can't believe you swung that way! Wow!"

"Wait a minute! What are you talking about!"

"MY DAD! YOU WANT ME TO SET YOU UP WITH MY DAD!" Libby exclaimed, collapsing onto the table in a fit of laughter, pounded her fist against the wood

**Libby's aunt has got it goin' on  
Libby's aunt has got it goin' on**

"Are you crazy?" Foaly asked, then noticed the people staring. He pointed behind his hand to the elf and mouthed the word, "Drugs."

Libby eventually wore herself out.

"No!" Foaly then said. "Holly! I want you to set me up with Holly!"

"Hah! Knew it," Libby said, instantly picking her head up.

"Wait…what?"

"I said I knew it. You were always making eyes at her, and she back, and you say each other's names like it was a prayer. Barf me a river, my friend."

"Well, if you knew, why did you say I was talking about your father?"

"Two reasons: one, to get you to admit you like my aunt, and two: to see the look on your face! It was priceless, really!"

**Libby, do you remember when I fixed your CPU?  
Your aunt snuck up, and poked my back and yelled "boo!"**

**I could tell she liked me from the way she stared  
And the way she said, "You missed a jack over there" **

"Okay, so are you going to help me or not?" Foaly asked, starting to get annoyed that he had ever brought Holly's feather-brained niece into this at all.

"Yes, I'll help. But first, I need to ask a few questions."

"All…right. Go ahead."

"Number one: If you should some how find yourself in my aunt's bed, will you leave her directly after the sex?"

"Excuse me?" Foaly asked, blushing harder than ever.

"Answer the question."

"No! Why would I do that?"

"Number two: Why do you like my aunt, and do you love her?"

**And I know that you think it's just a fantasy  
But since there's no one else, your aunt could use a guy like me**

"Er…I like her because she's one of the few, the proud, the annoyed that I have made friends with, because she's intelligent, fearless, witty, loyal, kind, and pretty. And I don't know if I love her, but I think I do."

"Good answer. Now, last question: what will you pay me for my services?"

"You are crazy! I'm not paying you for this! I'm calling on a favor that you promised me half a century ago!"

**Libby's aunt has got it goin' on  
She's all I want, and I've waited so long  
Libby, can't you see you're just not the girl for me  
I know it might be wrong,  
but I'm in love with Libby's aunt**

"Fine…gosh! Meanie."

"Hey, if you didn't want me to call on the favor, you shouldn't have offered it in the first place."

"Point. But let me give you fair warning," Libby said, leaning in, "my aunt doesn't take shit from anybody. If you cross her, she will find a way to get you back. And when she's done, I'll get revenge too. One guy cheated on her once…and one guy only. He now has a cruchball racket permanently stuck up his ass. I like you, so I'm telling you now: treat her well, and you two will be perfect together."

"Right: treat the fairy I've got a huge crush on well, and I get both a female I can relate to _and_ a racket-free backend."

"Precisely."

"I'm all for it if you are," Foaly said, sticking out his hand. Libby gripped his hand and pumped his arm up and down at a vigorous pace.

**Libby's aunt has got it goin' on  
She's all I want and I've waited for so long,  
Libby can't you see you're just not the girl for me,  
I know it might be wrong but **

**I'm in love with **

Five minutes later, Libby had left the café and was walking to her aunt's house with a spring in her step.

'Step one,' she thought, 'call Dad and demand my fifty bucks…'

**I'm in love with Libby's aunt

* * *

**

**Okay, a little OOC, but dammit, I'm tired and needed a story before my head exploded.**

**Review, please! **


	5. Libby's Brownie

**Yay! The continuing adventures of Libby White. And since I am far too busy (see: lazy) to actually make two seperate stories, this will remain in the vingettes. But fear not! When I get myself in gear, I shall make two stories!**

**Roll it, Louie!

* * *

**Libby White stared hard at the door in front of her. It stared hard back. At least, she thought it did. It might have winked at her.

Libby pressed the doorbell, fingering the fifty-dollar bill in her pocket. She had made that bet with her father three centuries ago, and was glad to finally get her money out of it.

When no one came to the door, Libby started hitting the bell in a truly annoying "bingbingbingbingbingbing" way that was sure to get her aunt to the door, if only to put a hatchet through the head of the person on the other side.

"ALL RIGHT! KEEP YOUR HEAD ATTACHED!" Holly's scream came from beyond the wooden entrance. The door flew open.

"Auntie!" Libby exclaimed, throwing her arms around her aunt.

"Libs!" Holly hugged her quickly, took her inside, shut the door, and bonked her niece upside the head. "That's for breaking my doorbell."

"Ow…"

"Can I get'cha something to drink?"

"No thanks. Hey, I need to talk to you about something important that could change the way you live."

"Unclean! Unclean!" Holly exclaimed as she led Libby into the small living room/kitchen in her apartment.

"What?"

"You're trying to sell me insurance! Out, out, vile demons from hell!"

"I'm insulted that you think I'd go so low!" Libby retorted, pouting.

"All right, all right. So what're you trying to do?"

"When was the last time you went on a date?" Libby asked, stretching out on the sofa. Long, awkward silence lapsed, Holly staring at her niece with eyes as wide as dinner plates. Suddenly, Holly stared to laugh.

"You're…joking!" the private detective choked out, in between bouts of laughter. "No way! I will not…be coupled!"

"Oh, come on; you know the guy!" Libby exclaimed.

"Oh, no! That makes it even worse!" Holly said, laughing.

"Grow up, auntie! There's no way you can be happy living here, all alone," Libby said, getting starry-eyed. "Surely you must get lonely, with only Haven's city lights for company, and you all alone in a big empty bed with no one to hold you!"

"Geez…you've been reading Mulch's romance novels, haven't you?"

Libby's eyes darted back and forth. "Maybe."

"No, Libby, I don't get lonely at all. I'm perfectly happy. Besides, I wouldn't want some man mucking up my house and clinging to my wallet and getting the idea that I'm one of these wimpy female types who need a man to get anything done," Holly said with a wry smile.

"Lies! Anyway, don't you want to know who it is?"

Now it was Holly's turn to make her eyes dart back and forth. "Okay, maybe a little."

"Gimme a dollar."

"Never!"

"Fine…at least go get me some of the quadruple-fudgitty-fudge-fudge brownies that we all know you hide in the freezer." Holly laughed and came back with two brownies.

Libby attacked hers with gusto. "Okay, now stand up so that I can see the look on your face."

Holly sighed, and, rolling her eyes, obeyed, the brownie still in her hand.

Libby watched her aunt, and said with an evil smile, "Foaly."

Holly's face resembled the look she wore during the tragic incident involving a set of china and thirty-two paper clips: a look of horror, embarrassment, and concealed interest and excitement.

Choosing her words carefully, Holly said, "Gesundheit."

Libby laughed. "That's right, auntie! There's a centaur somewhere in Haven that thinks you're the neatest thing since carrot cake!"

Holly made one fluid moment, and had her niece pinned to the sofa. "Tell anyone what you just told me," Holly whispered, "and I shall personally eat you for breakfast."

"Too…late," Libby managed to say, "Dad…all ready knows."

"The hell he does!" Holly yelled, getting off of her niece and pocketing the fifty dollars she had just filched. "I can't believe you told my brother something that stupid!"

"Auntie…" Libby began, trying to drive her point home. It was the only way to handle Holly; it was impossible to calm her down. "Look. You won't be this adamant if you weren't pleased but didn't want to be. Relax. I've got it under control."

"No, Libby, you will not-" Holly's protest was cut short by the front door shutting. Holly sighed and picked up the phone to call her brother. Prepares she could threaten him into controlling his daughter.

* * *

**Since I was listening to the Llama Song nonstop when I wrote this, I'm just pleased that it's readable.**

** Review, please!  
**


	6. Libby's Dad

**I...**

**They... **

**It's...**

**((hangs head in shame)) This beautiful, growing, changing fic was abused terribly by me, the writer. ((stands there as rotten tomatoes and a rotten watermelon hit her)) ((wipes tomato-melon schmutz off of mouth)) I left it for the longest time, as if it was worthless.**

**The only reason I have returned to it was because of one hopeful reviewer named _ANONYMOUS-gsd_, who, along with her sister, bravely (oh, so bravely) reminded me that, dammit, Semine, you gotta get your ass in gear and respect those readers! I thank all my other reviewers, too...but if this reviewer hadn't reviewed recently, I probably never would have looked at this story again. Thank you all so much for your comments...they make me feel wuved, and in some strange cases...**

**respected as an intellectual. I love you all, except for those I hate! ((glomps, getting tomato-melon schmutz everywhere))**

**I'm a bad writer, but I hope that you all stick with me. I'd love ya for it! **

**So this chapter goes out to all of you who liked this story and thought I had given up. To all of the people who actually look at this stuff and think "Hey, this writer doesn't completely suck!" To all the HollyFoaly shippers, man! To those who don't only write slash, but write all stuff! ((pumps fist in air as if encouraging a revolution))**

**I'm back, yo!**

**Roll it, Louie!

* * *

**The phone rang in a small townhouse in the meager suburbs of Haven. A male elf raised his eyebrows, whipped off his reading glasses, threw the newspaper aside, and gingerly lifted the phone receiver. Holding it at arm's length, he waited until the screaming hit a pause.

"Are you quite done?" he asked into the phone.

"I was pausing for breath," the speaker said sulkily.

"Same thing. How are you, Holly?"

"I'm going to kill your daughter. Do you have a tombstone picked out?"

"I'll see what I can do. Why are you calling, other than to invite me to the funeral?"

"Your daughter said that she told you something about a personal matter that I find very concerning. As always, this information will be kept in complete confidence and I must ask for your complete cooperation."

The male elf chuckled. "I can mouth along with that speech, I've heard it so many times. You're a born police officer, Hol."

"Don't call me that, _Naveen_."

Scowling, the male (Naveen to family, Nav to everyone who liked their life force in their bodies) said, "I know very little. Your niece- can I call her by name? I didn't think I'd have to speak to a police officer this way after she crested 160 without legal incident…"

"Nav. Tell me or die."

"_Olivia White_, my daughter, called me about two hours ago and told me that a bet we had made 300 years, 4 months, 6 day, 14 hours-"

"Nav."

"And proclaimed that she was right and I was wrong and nah-nah-nah-nah and she wanted her fifty dollars and she was coming to get them."

"Then?"

"Then she came over, made me fork over the money, kissed my head, and ran out the door. I haven't heard from her since. I have a theory, however, that she came to you," Nav Short frowned at his sister's silence, then quickly jerked the phone away from his head.

"YOU MADE A BET ON ME!" Holly shrieked, and launched into a new tirade. "You have the absolute nerve to make an illegal movement behind my back…on me! You pond-sucking excuse for an elf, who do you think you are? I'll have your head mounted on my wall for this, Naveen Pippin Short…!"

After about six minutes and after insulting her brother's lack of intelligence, lack of breeding, lack of fashion sense, social status, physical appearance, effeminate name, mental health, various perversions, and questioning his manhood or lack thereof in Gnomish, Icelandic and fluent Profane (never once repeating herself), Holly's rant dwindled to random cusses and gasps.

"So what do you have to say for yourself, you &(&#$ sonofa&#?" she finally asked.

"The Greybacks won yesterday," Nav muttered distractedly, looking down at his newspaper. Holly sighed.

"I hate you all," she grumbled.

"We love you too!" Nav said cheerily, putting his newspaper aside. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"You can kill your daughter. That'd be nice. If you do, it'll be my birthday and Christmas present…early!"

"Sorry; I think that's more illegal than betting. So who's the lucky fairy?"

"Wait…what was the bet?"

"That you'd fall for someone in the LEP. You fell for Chix, didn't you? Please tell me you fell for Chix. I will be a happy elf if you fell for Chix. I wanna know what the kids'd look like. Please?"

"First of all, no. Second of all, I mock-barf at you. Third of all, do you really think I'll tell you if you don't know? Fourth of all, no."

"It's Grub Kelp, isn't it? You fell madly in love…with Grub Kelp. Hmm…"

"Goodbye, Nav."

"It is Grub Kelp! I knew it!"

"Goodbye, Nav."

"All right, all right. G'bye, Holly. Invite me to the wedding."

"Die, o brother of my heart."

"I love you too."

Hanging up the phone, Nav smirked. 'Wonder if that centaur any good with meteorology. Hurricane Holy will blow him away.'

Nav turned to the Arts section.

* * *

Libby rode the elevator to apartment 1010** (←the reader who gets the joke gets a cookie! Hint below…)**, the apartment of her prey. 

Running up to the door and making sure that no one was around. Satisfied that she was alone, she started screaming and pummeling her fists against the door.

"Oh God! It's coming! In the name of heaven, open the door! Please, help! Aaahhhhhhhhhhhhh! Oh, please, open the door...!"

Foaly practically ripped the door open, his expression horrified. Libby smiled innocently at him.

"Hi again!"

Grabbing his chest and panting, the centaur fixed Libby with a glare that would have caused a lesser woman to spontaneously combust.

"I hate you so much, you have no idea."

"Good to see you too. Now, before you kill me and hack up my body into a million pieces and flush some down the toilet and throw some in Sool's office and bury the rest, I have three things to say."

"Yes, evil-whelp-who-must-be-died?"

"Number one, is Wednesday night good for you? Great. I will email you your mission, then. Number two, I needed to do that because I thought you were in a moody slump and I figured, when in doubt, resort to bad horror movies."

Foaly glared.

"Number three, Holly has first dibs on my murder. Since she _lurrrrrrrves_ you, though, I think she'll let you help."

"How romantic," Foaly said, clasping his hands together. "I can see it now. Your aunt, looking ravishing in a red evening dress (so the stains won't show) and holding a pickaxe, standing in a candle lit back alley, grinning evilly. The whirr of chain saws, the swell of our laughter, and the soprano of your death shrieks mingling and thrumming gently, the smell of blood hanging lightly in the air. Walking hand in hand to an open manhole where we hurl the mutilated remains of your body into the sewers." The centaur sniffed, as if overcome by so many beautiful pictures. "I can't wait until Wednesday."

"Good to know!" Libby laughed, stepping into the elevator and waving gently.

Once the doors closed, she wrapped her arms around herself and shuddered. 'I'm gonna order a two way shuttle ticket for Wednesday and reserve a hotel room in Venice tomorrow,' she thought. 'Get away until the heat dies down.'

* * *

**Hint: Think techie-geek.**

**I will be posting the rest of this story under "Libby's Aunt," an actual story! Look there! **

**Okay! I am back, back, backitty-back! Whoo-hoo!  
**

**Celebrate, y'all! Please review! (It got me off of my writing slump! It can do anything!) **


	7. A Summary of TLC by Holly

**Behold the angst!**

**I'm glad to be writing for my oldest pairing. I missed my babies!**

**I won't ruin the ending by grubbing for reviews. So I'll do it here.**

**Review, please!  
**

**Disclaimer: Should, would, could, don't. **

* * *

**Perfection**

Well. I'm glad to see that you're doing so nicely.

Gas monitors, you say? Lovely.

_Do_ tell me about the lady you're seeing, the one who you're all cleaned up for, looking more handsome than you ever tried to look before.

All happy and enjoying life and glad to be seeing someone you can relate to _so well_.

I hate her already.

But one day I'll meet her and I'll probably realize how nice and funny she is and how _perfect_ you two are for each other.

It's lucky, then, that you could never just sit for perfection.

Because, you see, I'd always tried to be a little more than a working buddy. And then I tried to be a little more than a friend.

Now I'm trying to be a little more than the closest, oldest friend you say I am.

I like to think I know you best. I like to think that you will see one day that we wouldn't ever, ever in a million years, be perfect for each other. Because that excites us both. Because imperfection drives us to work together. Because that'll give you something to work on. And because I like to think I know you best, I know that you're never completely happy unless there's something to work on.

I'm combative, active. You're pugnacious, work-addicted. We can't sit still while stuff goes on without us. I push, you pull, we moved things and got things done. I fell, you caught, I fought, you built.

We made things happen and got closer than just work buddies, just friends. We're best friends. I can't express, you won't express, neither of us want to feel at all. Don't we ever have a moment where we could have something more than a best friendship?

But tell me about her. I want to know why not. Why not me. Why someone else. I can't sit here thinking that it's another pair of legs...

* * *

**Opera**

You're in love with her, aren't you?

Gods.

She's you dream girl. Everything you've ever wanted.

...I'm sorry.

...I'm selfish.

...I...

...I can't stop wanting her out of your life.

You need her. Or if you don't, soon you will.

I'm sorry.

I can't help it. I want you, too. As someone to take care of. Because then that would take care of me and we'd be taking care of each other.

I'm so jealous.

I do want you to be happy, but I want to be happy too.

I want you to be happy with me.

I can't be that close to you. Never again. If you hug me once more, I'll lose my mind and I'll do something stupid or say something and my world will come crashing down because not even the People's anihilation scares me as much as your frown...

But would you hurt enough to cry if it didn't work out?

Not yet, certainly, but after weeks, months...

years?

I'm ill thinking about it. Tears would be worse than a frown. I couldn't abide tears. I don't hold with tears.

Tears are my downfall. My tears, yours, ours, anybody's. Always my weakness.

Such drama in a moment. Such passion in a heartbeat. Opera is like that. Caring is like that.

I'd have to dry your tears, should they ever fall. Got to bandage up what hurts right away.

I don't hold with long hurts.

So if she's what stops the tears, she's what it's got to be.

But she doesn't stop mine.

Are tears your downfall too?

* * *

**A Lost Island**

...I hope I get home to see you.

I need to tell you that I love you.

Then I can die, if I have to.

* * *

**Three Years' Passing**

No!

...Really?

She's gone, you say?

After three months?

It just wasn't meant to be?

Oh, no, I am sorry to hear about it. I knew how excited you were.

(Thank you, gods.)

So you're still looking then?

No?

Just going to take it easy for awhile?

(I'd better not smile. It'll give me away. Thank you, gods.)

Bachelorship is probably just what you need.

Can't have you turning into Casanova on me. I just got back and I need stability, thankyouverymuch.

(Good, good, voice playful but not too expressive. There! A smile from him. (Thank you, gods.) It's okay to grin now...)

So, what have I missed?

...Sool's _gone_?

Yes!

(Another grin! Wha-! Ooooooooh. Good, put your arm around my shoulders. (Thank you, gods.) Bye, Artemis. Now, back to what we were saying...)

And what have you been up to?

Section Eight kicked you out?

Oh, I see...Vinyaya hired you somewhere else. How's the budget?

You're kidding.

You're not kidding!

Well then, I'm sure you've been busy!

Tell me about it.

You missed me?

(You have no idea how happy that makes me. Thank you, gods.)

Well, I'm glad to hear it.

* * *

**Excuse me?_ -or-_ Cleaning Up  
**

Who's the female _now_! This is breaking my heart!

You're all sleek and shiny and handsome and-

Oh. Oh!

...Really?

Well, then...put the hat back on. It's very...you.

* * *

**First Kiss**

Oh. Oh my.

Well.

Come here. I want you do do that again...


End file.
